“Tomarra. We been holding dem waiting for word. We got it dis afternoon a’fore I let out on my hunt…”
Jasmine massaged the tension from the back of her neck. She had to go in.
Chapter 9
Toby sat up as he drove the Harley into the camp that looked as if it had been a small suburban community, scared out of his mind. Beneath his left armpit was the modified cannon, capable of firing off four rounds before Jasmine would need to reload it.
He felt her breath on his right cheek, her chin on his shoulder, and her fingers on the triggers. He then thought of the pistol in his belt pointing at his crotch and wondered if he could get to it and maybe put a bullet in her. He knew she wouldn’t drop one of the weapons to protect herself, and if she did then it would still be to his advantage. It would be one less weapon she could use against the men that had been his friends for as long as he could remember. He didn’t want to die, nor did he want to see them die by the hands of a gypsy. A gypsy that he failed to stop. Anything she did, he thought, was his entire fault, and his alone.
She leaned tightly against him and said over the roar of the Harley, “Don’t think about it, Toby. Believe me when I tell you this, I’ve been training for this moment for four years and I can’t wait to see how well I do.”
Toby gulped and thought, sumbitchen gypsies can really read minds.
The guard that had relieved himself spun around, raising his pistol, but hesitated when he saw Toby. Before he could get a shot off, Jasmine drew her Glock, leaving Toby shocked when he discovered that he was actually holding the shotgun. Then in the same fluid motion, Jasmine fired the cannon. The building exploded as the first guard dropped to the ground.
“Sumbitchen Gypsy!” Toby screamed out in tears, the guard was his brother.
The guard with the little girl fired off two rounds, which hit Toby in the chest, and the impact knocked Jasmine off the Harley. When she hit the ground, the blast from the shotgun hurled the shooter back a foot or so before he slammed down.
Jasmine rolled and then fired the cannon, taking out the remainder of the building, which exploded and collapsed on two men who were running out. She twisted right as a third guard came around the building and, in the confusion, he shot Toby two times. Toby fell from the Harley but he was already dead and never felt the ground when he slammed down.
The Harley veered off to the right, just as she saw it in her vision, and ran into a lean-to that was a storage area for gasoline and explosives. The lean-to exploded with an impact that killed the guard.
Jasmine crab-walked across the ground and grabbed the little girl, and then lay down on top of her just as another guard came around the corner. Jasmine then fired several rounds from her Glock, dropping him mere feet from where they lay.
“Where’s your mom and dad,” Jasmine asked in a near whisper, unsure of how many men were still alive, and even more unsure if any of the women would put up a fight.
“Behind that building,” the small girl answered between sobs, pointing to the building where Toby had said the women were held prisoner.
Off to Jasmine’s left, another gunman barged around the corner, firing round after round. Once again, Toby had lied, as repeated fire hit the ground in front of her. Jasmine crab-walked again across the ground while firing off several rounds in an automatic fashion. She whipped the cannon from her shoulder and fired. The grenade hit the shooter in the chest, exploding on impact.
Except for the wind, silence draped the camp like a halfhearted hand across the mouth of crying child. Jasmine stood, waiting, looking around for another guard to appear. She couldn’t remember if there were three or four, and, if it were four, did Toby lie about that as well. She looked over to the lean-to and the watched as the Harley burned. She mumbled, “Well, crap. There goes my ride…”
She then helped the little girl to her feet, pulled her close, and hugged her deeply. “Are you hurt, baby girl?” Jasmine said, nearly suffocating the child. “You didn’t get hit, did you?”
“No… I’m okay, but I want my mommy,” the girl answered, sobbing.
Jasmine looked around, waiting. When she felt safe, she holstered her Glock then picked up her cannon and shotgun and holstered the two weapons. She made a mental note to tell Tank the cannon was too heavy to control. Although she had practiced every day, the kick was horrendous when in motion, but she didn’t believe he designed it for the way she used it. It wasn’t meant to be slung around and literally used one-handedly in a firefight.
“What’s your name, baby girl?” Jasmine asked.
“Sara.”
“Let’s wait a moment, Sara,” Jasmine answered. She then reloaded her Glocks, and then her shotgun. She’d have to wait to load the cannon.
“Are you a real gypsy?” Sara asked. When Jasmine nodded, Sara continued, “You don’t act like a gypsy.”
“What do I act like?” Jasmine asked with a chuckle. She loved the reputation. Nearing the beginning of the twenty-second century and people still held ancient notions of what gypsies were like.
“I don’t know,” Sara answered. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Jasmine hugged her again and then gently led Sara to walk behind her. They started in the direction where the women were kept and the other building her parents should be.
Sara stopped and looked at the building. “They keep the women in cages,” Sara said, looking at the door. “Most of them are hurt. The men beat them.”
“Let’s get your mother first,” Jasmine said in a tone that she hoped would help calm Sara, as well as her own rising anger. She’d be sure to kill every man in the camp and set the women free.
When they came around the building, Jasmine stopped. Something didn’t feel right. She shoved Sara against the building and covered her as two men dropped down on them from the roof. Jasmine slammed her palm in the nose of the first man, breaking it, dropping him to the ground in agony. The second one managed to grab Jasmine by the throat, choking her. She brought her knee up and slammed it into his groin but the kick didn’t faze him and he punched Jasmine in the face.
Jasmine saw a bright flash from the punch and fell back against the building and as the man drew back to punch her again, Jasmine desperately groped for her gun but found the knife instead. She slammed it into his forehead. When he fell back, Jasmine pulled her Glock and shot him between the eyes just beneath the knife.
Jasmine dropped to her knees. The pain was excruciating and she wondered if he broke her jaw. The first man moaned and began to sit up. Jasmine shot him.
Jasmine quickly turned to Sara and pulled her into her arms. “I’m so sorry you had to see that,” Jasmine soothed, gingerly rubbing her hand across Sara’s head as if smoothing down Sara’s hair. “Do you know if there are more men I need to worry about?”
Sara shook her head no.
“Walk behind me,” Jasmine said. They waked toward the back building. She saw the pistol in a split-second vision, pulled her Glock so quickly that Sara didn’t notice what was happening, and Jasmine shot the owner. After a beat, maybe two, the potential shooter fell out the window. “Any more?”
Sara shrugged. She was much too young and too frightened to know how many were at the camp.
Jasmine edged the door open.
Chapter 10
Inside were Sara’s parents and brother, bound and gagged and sitting on the floor with their backs to each other. Both parents had been beaten, the son, about Jasmine’s age, even more so and looked to be unconscious.